Little Sister
(Alternative Title: Hi, Ruby Rose)
"I'm ready," Yang said, not because she was, but because this needed to be done.
Blake, glued to her side, seemed to know as well, clutching her tighter. Yang was grateful, even if she currently couldn't show her gratefulness.
Together, they went in to greet the newest addition to the Rose-Long family.
The baby was so small in the big room, and there was something wrong about how alone it was. No child should ever be alone. Children should always be held by someone, anyone.
Yang sucked in a breath, and wasted no time to walk to it. Walk to her.
She'd just been born two days ago, and now she was an orphan already.
"What kind of world does this?" Yang asked, not directing the question to Blake.
Blake answered anyway. "I don't know, Yang." Even if the answer weren't helpful, she valued it because it was honest.
The baby was on the small side. Not too much for it to be alarming, but enough for her to worry. She was bundled up in a red blanket, and she had little to no hair. The small puffs of hair she had were so thin Yang could barely see it.
Dad had told her she used to be a hairy baby.
Dad…
Yang choked on her tears, but held them back, ignoring the pointed worried look Blake was giving her. She had to be strong, even if she couldn't be.
Yang approached. Her hands, shaking, hovered over the baby's form. She was afraid of touching her. Afraid that one touch too hard would take its - her - life away.
"She needs you, Yang," Blake said, patient and rational and wise beyond her years. "You're all she has."
And Yang wanted to break down again.
How was it fair?
How was any of this fair?
"I don't think I can do it, Blake."
Despite her words, Yang closed in on herself, and reached out, only to hesitate at the last second. What should she touch first? The scalp of the head? The face? The body? Yang had never touched a baby this young before. Yang wasn't sure she'd ever touched an actual baby. The closest thing she'd ever experienced was fist-bumping and giving piggy-back rides to toddlers and kindergarteners on her days as a babysitter.
"Blake, please."
Yang could beg no longer.
But Yang didn't need to beg. She never had. Because Blake was there, Blake was always there, waiting, ready to give her whatever she needed.
And Blake held her arms, and guided them down, letting them touch the baby. Yang swallowed. The baby made a soft sound, her eyes opening to reveal a pair of silver eyes, bright, curious, and welcoming.
A tear fell.
This was supposed to be a happy time, Yang thought. A new life, brought into the earth. A miracle. A time of gratefulness.
And Yang did feel grateful.
She was grateful of Blake, for being here with her, when nobody else would, when there was nobody else who cared for her that much anymore.
She was grateful for her father, bastardly as he had been at times, for teaching her to be strong, to be resourceful, for turning her into who she was today, even if it was his neglect and overbearingness that did it.
And above all, she was grateful for Summer, whoever she may be, and whatever she may want.
Yang smiled, and kissed the top of the baby's head. The baby let out a little moan that sounded serene in response. Blake, still behind her, chuckled. "She has your laugh."
Maybe she did. Maybe she didn't.
Yang would still love her anyways.
Yang would love her the way she'd wanted a mother to love her.
Yang would become the mother she'd always wished to have.
It was the least she could do.
"Welcome to life, Ruby."
This kinda took a while to finish, despite it being short. It's mostly because I didn't want to write it in the first place, but I knew I needed to get it out of the way. This is an integral part to the story, so... I couldn't just not write it.